The Eyes of Maura Isles
by Coke Cam
Summary: Concluding sequel to "Coffee, Tea or Me?" and "Who's Up First?" – Despite her romantic bravado, Jane is terrified that if Maura ever sees her vulnerability then she'll leave, but Maura knows more than Jane realizes and she's willing to go to any length to heal the woman she loves. (Romance/Humor/Drama/Rizzles/Happy Ending)
1. Chapter 1

**The Eyes of Maura Isles**

**Disclaimer: If I owned this setup, do you think I'd be stuck on stupid road trips for work, away from Spousal Unit?! And that title is a frivolous reference to ****_The Eyes of Lara Mars_**** but with no connection whatsoever.**

**A/N: This is the conclusion of the trilogy begun with "Coffee, Tea or Me?" and then "Who's Up First?", which take a humorous but progressively more serious look at the relationship/intimacy dynamics between Jane and Maura as they iron out some unexpected difficulties. Rizzles vulnerable, Rizzles funny, Rizzles tender, all Rizzles, all happy in the end. Repeat after me, Happy Ending! And I honestly swear I rarely write in the M-range—this is kind of a flukey thing I wanted to explore, but it does have plot, emotion, depth and heart, so give it a chance. :-)**

* * *

Vince Korsak had heard of Mistrone's and driven by it enough times but never had the justification or the money to go there for lunch, at least not until today. He had known that he would need a jacket and tie to get in, grateful for once for the department's dress code, although he knew he didn't really shop in the right stores for this place, or certainly for his lunch partner.

The tuxedoed maitre'd was too polite to comment though and greeted him as warmly as if he were a regular, and a very good tipper at that. Korsak considered that to be good staff training, but also he wondered if the treatment he was getting had something to do with who he was meeting.

The maitre'd guided him across the dining area, only half-full now with late lunchers, to a side alcove where Dr. Maura Isles sat, sipping a sparkling water and waiting with a polite, expectant expression that shifted to delight when she spotted him. Her eyes, arguably one of the most beautiful features in an already gorgeous face, lit up when he reached the table.

"Sgt. Korsak, thank you—I know it was late notice. Thank you, Philippe." She murmured a few rapid sentences in French which Korsak was only to happy to let her do. She might have ordered him a side of raw squid for all he knew, but he trusted her—anything Maura did was going to be in good taste, which he considered really didn't explain why she had asked him to lunch.

"They're bringing you a beer," she confided as they sat down on the padded bench seats across from each other.

"Oh—that's nice of you, but I have to go back on duty."

"It's non-alcoholic."

Korsak felt the inside of his mouth begin to shrivel but the thoughtfulness of what she had done and her beaming smile made him grin in reply. "Good thinking. Do you have a menu or anything?"

"I took the liberty of describing what you always order at the Robber. It will be with the chef's personal touch of course, but I think you'll be pleasantly surprised."

As long as he didn't get surprised with food poisoning, Korsak really didn't care. He was out at lunch in one of the nicest restaurants in town with one of his favorite people even though he still couldn't figure out why the hell that was. Not why Maura Isles was one of his favorite people, he corrected himself—anyone who met her would feel that way inside five minutes—but why they were here, now, and without Jane.

"This is really nice, Dr. Isles, but I gotta ask if everything's OK. You said you'd rather talk while Jane's in court today?"

Maura nodded, her expression turning serious, the way it did when she had lab results to deliver that wouldn't confirm that the suspect had been present at the crime scene. "Yes, she has to testify. I appreciate your taking the time to meet, as a favor to me."

Korsak wouldn't have refused even if it meant rescheduling a vet appointment, of which there were many for his domestic menagerie, but when Maura Isles asked you like that, smiling in a way that made your bones melt, even if you were a three-time divorced sergeant, old enough to be her father and you did sort of see her as a daughter, then all you asked was what time and where.

"How would you say things have been for Jane at work in the last two weeks?"

Korsak thought about it as he moved the silverware around at his place setting, forcing a smile at the waiter who had brought the loathsome non-alcoholic beer. "Really good," he realized in surprise. "I mean, she's always been a great detective, right from the start, but she closed the Madsen file in 48 hours and with her testimony today I don't think Dickinson will see the light of day again. Except for that one unsolved murder…"

"Yes, about that."

Korsak shrugged. "I mean, we're looking into it, but all we've got is a caller who thinks they overheard a murder being committed right there on Jane's hall, but there's no body, no witnesses, no missing persons who fit the situation, just a report of a woman screaming in the middle of the night, begging for mercy or something like…"

"Mmm hmm," Maura said, nodding as she interrupted. "Yes, I read the report. I don't think it was a reliable witness." She had drained her water glass and was signaling the waiter to bring another.

"Oh you did?" he brightened. Dr. Isles had always been a valuable contributor to the team, even without a formal law enforcement background and he was interested in her perspective. "I've been over the statement too, and I think it's a little vague. I'm sure it sounded desperate at the time, but if you just look at the words on paper, it's hard to tell—I mean, things like, _please, oh my God, what are you doing to me_, and some of the other stuff I'm not gonna repeat?" He leaned close, dropping his voice to confide. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but I think maybe someone just had a porn movie turned up too loud and is too embarrassed to admit it."

"Loudly."

"What?"

"Turned up too loudly," Maura repeated. Her face was starting to turn red but she was determined to see that correct grammar prevailed, and now Korsak felt bad. He hadn't meant to embarrass the doctor, who was arguably the classiest and most refined woman he'd ever met, much less had lunch with. But she was also one of the bravest and most dedicated co-workers he'd ever had and she deserved his honest evaluation.

"But overall," Maura said, "aside from that case, you think Jane's work is at par or above currently?"

"Definitely, and if you put in the fact that she's actually been in a good mood then it's amazing. We should do her performance review right now, whaddya say?"

"Performance review," Maura repeated with a laugh that seemed nervous. "5 stars, every time."

"What?"

The medical examiner shook her head, seeming flustered again. "It's nothing, I'm glad. I do have a specific reason I wanted to talk though, and it helps to know that everything is going well for her at work now. It's important to have impartial third party confirmation."

Korsak wasn't sure he'd ever been called that before, but at the moment, taking his first bite of Mistrone's spin on the classic bacon cheeseburger and realizing that he had been utterly ruined for the Robber, he didn't care. Maura had been served an extremely complicated looking salad which she was navigating now with one of three forks she'd had to choose from and which would never have made it two days on the menu at a cop bar.

"I need to ask you some delicate questions and I'd also like to ask that you keep them in confidence. I would never do anything to hurt Jane, you know that, but this is a sensitive subject for her and I want to respect her privacy."

Korsak would have sold his mother's DNA in that moment for the cheeseburger recipe and he nodded along happily. "Sure, we all know how she gets. What's up?"

"I need you to tell me exactly what you saw when you went into the basement that night when you found her with Hoyt."

Suddenly the food was dry in his mouth, tasteless and flat as cardboard. "You could warn a guy," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, Sgt. Korsak." But from the look in Maura Isles' eyes—resolved, determined, unwavering—she wasn't that sorry. She was a woman with something at stake, respectful and aware but not afraid. "I can't make decisions without data."

Korsak looked longingly at the burger on his plate which was growing progressively less interesting. "I know you've read the report and you've heard us talk about it, but it sounds like you're looking for something specific and I'm not sure how to answer. I know you're uncomfortable making guesses, but maybe you could hypothetically describe what's going on?"

"Of course." Maura nodded earnestly, composing herself. "If, hypothetically, I found myself in a passionate sexual relationship with my best friend, who also happens to be my co-worker, and then I discovered that she has difficulty with certain aspects of intimacy which I suspect are related to past traumas suffered in the line of duty, then—hypothetically—I would seek advice and counsel from those who would be most familiar with those situations so we can address them and have a more fulfilling physical partnership."

Korsak's face was numb but somehow he managed to move his lips. "OK, the first thing, you need to look up the definition of _hypothetical_ because I don't think it means what you think it means. Second, we're going to try to pretend I didn't hear that."

"But it's hypothetical," Maura emphasized carefully. "I didn't say it was real."

"Well, thanks for the clarification." Korsak's face had gone from utterly pale to beet red and back again. Rizzoli and the doc, an affair? His loyal, funny and protective Janie falling for the brilliant, beautiful and slightly weird doctor, the only one of them who wasn't just a little bit scared of her? That was, well…actually, it made absolutely perfect sense.

"I have a theory," Maura said quietly. "But I need to know what you observed, without being prejudiced by my suppositions."

"OK," he coughed, downed half the non-alcoholic beer, then coughed even harder. "Right. I guess you could say it was my fault because I wasn't with her, but however you look at it, Hoyt had her. He'd gotten the drop, hit her across the head with a 2x4 and broke some ribs too. You've seen her hands—you know he stabbed her straight through and pinned her to the basement floor with the scalpels like some kind of specimen. He was going to dissect her."

Korsak was aware somehow that he wasn't using Jane's name, like he shouldn't put it like a label on a faceless victim.

"The report indicates those were her only physical injuries."

"Very good, doc." Korsak smiled faintly. "They don't write down the ones you can't see, like what it does to you to know you're helpless and you can't fight back. I don't know what he said to her before I got there, but I heard him when I came down the stairs. It was vintage Hoyt."

"Could you be specific—any words or phrases you remember?"

Korsak pretended to think about it, as if every second wasn't permanently engraved in his mind, but now that he had gotten over the initial shock of what Maura had, hypothetically, told him, he wanted nothing more than to help.

"He was gloating, you know Hoyt. He was taunting her, right in her face but he had the lighting rigged so she couldn't see him back. He kept saying she was his now. 'You're mine, Janie. They don't know where you are, we've got all the time in the world, you're mine now, things like that.'"

"Whenever Hoyt abducted couples, he would rape the wife. We know that was a routine part of his MO." Maura paused, framing her words carefully. "Was there anything that was left out of the report, to spare Jane?"

"No." Korsak shook his head, definite and assured. "I wasn't that late getting there. Yeah, I'm sure he had that in mind and I'm sure she knows that too, but he didn't have time."

Maura smiled, hope kindling in her eyes. They were really nice eyes, Korsak thought—warm, intelligent, kind. He could see why Jane had fallen for her, why anyone would. He didn't want to think very hard about what problems they might be having, but if there was anyone who could figure out a solution, it would be Dr. Isles.

"You know, you don't have to get shot to be gun shy," he said. Now that his appetite was returning, the thin, crispy fries were vanishing from the side of his plate at a rapid rate. "It's bad enough when something happens to someone and we can't save them. When it happens to us and you realize you can't even save yourself…there's a reason cops are control freaks. Hoyt might not have touched her body, but he got to her mind."

Maura's eyes were shining now. "Thank you, Sgt. Korsak. I think you've been very helpful. Would you like another beer?"

"No! I mean, thank you, I've still got some left. Can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"Of course." Maura was signaling Philippe for the check, her card discreetly in the palm of her hand. She didn't wear any rings, which wasn't unusual if she was preparing for an autopsy, but it had reminded him of Jane—Jane, who just a few weeks ago had asked him in a very overly casual way where had he gone the three times he had bought an engagement ring.

"If you were, hypothetically, dating a co-worker, about how long do you think that would have been for?"

"12 days, 18 hours and 35 minutes. Why do you ask?"

Korsak thought back, pinpointing the very moment when Jane Rizzoli had turned into Super Cop with an obsession for engagement rings, and smiled. "No reason, Dr. Isles. Just hypothetical."

* * *

Back in her office, Maura carefully locked the door before she sat down to compose her email. It wasn't that she didn't trust her lab assistants not to sneak up behind her, but it never hurt to take precautions. Jane, having two brothers, had assured her of this and even told her a few suitably horrifying anecdotes of times when she had been burst in on as a teenage girl.

"As if that wouldn't make you jumpy enough," Maura sighed, biting back a smile.

Anyone who met Jane knew within a few minutes that she had more defensive walls than Fort Knox. The problem, as Maura had discovered, was that those walls had also made it impossible for Jane to trust enough to find any kind of satisfaction with a sexual partner. Having lived with the situation for years, Jane was resigned to it and she seemed perfectly content to devote her energy to making Maura's world explode on a regular basis; but as deliriously happy as that made Maura, and even though they had made some progress, she wasn't willing for the situation to remain one-sided. She might not understand the word hypothetical (although she had looked it up on her phone and she was confident Sgt. Korsak had been mistaken), but because of Jane, she did understand the definition of love.

Maura scrolled up to check her email one last time, making sure each of the bulleted points was properly punctuated and that she had selected Jane's private account and not her departmental one. After sending, she composed a quick text to go with it.

M: Check our email account. Anything on that list can be yours tonight.

J: Good way to get my attention.

M: Think of me as your new favorite restaurant.

J: Goddammit woman. I'm trying to drive.

M: Jane Rizzoli, do not text me while driving! Don't even read this!

Five minutes passed before she got another text, five eternally long minutes in which Maura tried to think about anything except what might be going through Jane's mind as she read the email or if she had crashed into a utility pole while trying to text back.

J: Are you sure about this?

M: It would be counterproductive to make offers I don't intend to keep.

J: Damn, how am I supposed to focus now?

M: Are you driving again?

J: I can't even walk and think about you at the same time.

M: I think you need to see a doctor.

J: I am seeing a doctor. That's the problem. OK—#3. I'll be there at seven.

* * *

When the knock came at the door that night, Maura answered and even having some idea of what she would find, it took her breath away.

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am."

Jane Rizzoli was standing on the doorstep in her blue beat uniform, every detail complete from hat to badge and gun. Even the clunky utility belt couldn't detract from Jane's rangy, athletic build and Maura felt something in her, the secretly shallow part of her that would always react to a uniform, begin to get weak at the knees. A foolish smile grew on her face and she let her shoulder rest against the doorframe.

"What can I do for you, Officer?"

"You can let me in before someone spots me," Jane muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"I don't think anyone will be surprised to see a police officer at my house. What brings you by tonight?"

Jane sighed. "Really?"

"You're the one who chose option #3. I have scrubs upstairs," she offered, "if you'd rather switch to…"

"No, this is good." Jane cleared her throat, pulling herself up and hitching both hands inside the utility belt. "We've had reports of a possible murder in the area and I need to speak with you."

"Oh my God!"

Jane's face twitched. "I love it when you do that," she murmured.

"It's a natural reaction to learning about a murder."

"You're going to be doing it a lot more later tonight."

"Stay in character," Maura scolded. "What kind of reports?"

"We've had multiple residents call 911 to say they overheard a woman being murdered, so we're interviewing everyone in the area. May I come in, please?"

Maura stepped back, locking the door behind them and stopping for an unreasonably long moment to admire what the uniform looked like from all angles. "Can I get you anything to drink, Officer?"

Jane's eyes, which had been narrowed with frustrated forbearance suddenly widened with interest. "Do you have any single malt?"

Maura raised one eyebrow. "Is that appropriate on duty?"

Jane was smiling at her, a very slow grin that made her breath catch. "I think we can bend the rules a little." She ambled across the kitchen to follow Maura to the liquor cabinet where she kept a few basic bottles for mixed drinks. She poured a generous Scotch for Jane, rationalizing that it could only help lower her inhibitions, and then a brandy for herself.

Jane's fingers brushed hers as she took the glass and Maura felt a small _frisson_ run up her spine. It was only a week ago that she had managed to slip past Jane's defenses and their fingers had touched as Jane climaxed in someone else's presence for the first time in her life. They had cautiously attempted it a few more times, gaining confidence, but mindful in an unspoken way that this would be a slow and steady battle. Still, the memory of that touch made her shiver.

Jane took an appreciative sip and then a second one while Maura tried to recover her train of thought. "Did the callers say they heard gunshots? It could have been the television."

"No ma'am." Jane set the Scotch down on the counter and sauntered a little closer. Maura had wondered more than once if they taught that swagger at the academy or if she had come up with it on her own. "The reports are very specific—a woman, screaming and crying like she thinks she's going to die. _Please, oh my God, stop_…"

"Are you sure about stop?" Maura was very certain she'd never said that.

Jane shrugged. "It might've been 'don't stop', but there's my personal favorite, 'Jesus Christ, why are you torturing me like this?'"

Maura did actually remember that one. "I'm not sure where that came from."

"I'm not either, but I know you came."

Maura narrowed her eyes, trying to glare, but it only made Jane laugh. "So," she said coolly, "what do you want from me?"

Jane put both hands on the counter, one to either side of Maura as she tilted her head. The brim of her patrol hat tilted to shade her eyes and Maura swallowed hard. "As I see it, there are three possibilities. First, someone was murdered, although you seem very much alive."

Every nerve ending in Maura's body was affirming that fact.

"Second, someone was playing a porn movie very loudly—that's the new popular theory at the precinct—so I'll need to check your video library."

"The only video I own with anyone naked in it is a _National Geographic_ 25 year retrospective."

"Oh God," Jane groaned, letting her head dip. "I remember every agonizing second of that one."

"You said you liked it!"

"I liked sitting next to you when you got worried that the little bear cubs were going to be hurt and you tried to climb in my lap. _That's_ why I liked it. Or third," Jane's voice dropped back to the cool, detached cop tone that made Maura's stomach flip, "maybe you had a guest, the bedroom window was open, and things got a little out of hand."

Maura let her jaw drop in mock outrage. "Are you suggesting that I…"

"That Dr. Maura Isles, the brilliant and sophisticated chief medical examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, is carrying on a secret affair with a blue collar Italian cop who makes her scream?" Jane gave a little shrug and a smug grin.

"You left out that I'm madly in love with her," Maura whispered, "and don't care who knows."

"Damn straight," Jane whispered back. "But since you've been reluctant to cooperate, I'm afraid I'm going to need to take you in." She stood back a step now, one hand on her hip in the general area of her gun, but nothing threatening—just enough to make a point. "Please turn around and place your hands where I can see them on the counter."

Even though they had been grinning at each other the entire time, there was something about the way Jane delivered the phrase that sent a small electrical charge through Maura. This was her hope of course, to give Jane every possible sense of control while still grounding themselves in the warmth and affection of what they already shared. And, Maura admitted, if she got to fulfill a not-so-idle fantasy along the way, so be it.

Jane's hands were nothing less than professional as she frisked down Maura's arms, around her waist and up her legs. She was just finishing a quick pat down of both hips when all movement stopped. Two fingers dipped into the side pocket of Maura's slacks and then a small explosion followed.

"Seriously? What the hell, Maur? Are these scissors from work?"

Maura straightened in confusion, starting to turn, when she found herself efficiently and helplessly pressed against the counter, one of Jane's hands on her back. "I forgot about those," she said meekly. "They wound up in my bag and I used them to open the pasta."

"You used dead people scissors on dinner?"

"They were in the vicinity of dinner," she negotiated. "But they never touched…you know, I have to say, you do a _very_ good job of frisking."

"Could've stabbed myself," Jane huffed. "OK, that's it." Maura felt her waistband suddenly loosen and the sound of a zipper as her slacks fell to the floor. "Spread your legs and hold still for me."

Maura felt her throat go dry in the same instant she tried to swallow convulsively. She complied, supporting her weight with her arms on the counter. Completely vulnerable now, Jane searched her again, this time very slowly and much more thoroughly. Maura wasn't certain if this was what airport security meant by a full body cavity search, but if they were using Jane's approach then she really didn't see why people were complaining. In fact, she for one would be willing to stand in line for the experience.

"You can straighten up now, ma'am."

Maura found that Jane had stepped directly behind her now, the heat of her body pulsing through the uniform as she pressed against Maura's back, both hands on her waist. "This is fun," she said quietly, "and I love making you happy, but if you want to stop or…"

Maura twisted in Jane's arms to look up at her, trying to hide the smile she couldn't help, the one that always grew inside whenever she looked into those warm, dark eyes. "Do you think I need to call my attorney?"

Jane grinned foolishly at her. "If you waive your right, you need to understand that any noises you make can be used as evidence against you."

Maura nodded, a silly, hopeful look on her face. _Oh, please throw me in that briar patch, Officer Rizzoli._

The handcuffs made a soft ratcheting click as they closed around her wrists.

* * *

Jane Rizzoli stood under the steaming shower spray, her head bowed and both hands braced against the far wall. She stared down at the floor of the bathtub, large enough for half an NBA team, and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to think how in the world she had gotten herself into this. She had never been interested in bringing her job into the bedroom, but if Maura asked? Hell, she'd dance a jig on top of a cruiser wearing a Yankees jersey during Fleet Week for her. And besides, the results had been…Jesus, nuclear.

"No one would believe you, Rizzoli," she murmured numbly.

Ten yards away in the master bedroom, she had left Maura Isles sprawled diagonally across the unkempt bed, the fitted sheet torn loose at one corner. The handcuffs Maura had insisted on were dangling open now, still looped through a slat in the headboard, as she slept in a beautifully tousled tangle, simmering in bliss. After they had finished making love, an expression that Jane realized she'd not remotely understood until now, she had tucked the covers up, slipping a pillow under Maura's head, and slunk to the shower. But what Jane had really wanted was to lie beside her, to let Maura stroke her hair, for her to find that old field hockey injury just behind her right ear and to gently worry at it, to whisper _shhh hush_ and to brush those elegant fingers over her lips.

For years she had loved Maura—quietly, patiently, hopelessly—and resigned herself to never so much as holding her hand; and now, without any warning, she found herself loved back beyond her dreams and had the privilege of spending every night of the last two weeks, and most mornings, turning cool, logical, urbane Dr. Maura Isles into a sobbing, helpless mess.

_And that_, Jane thought despondently, _is exactly what she does to you but you can't show her_.

While it was the most natural, wonderful thing in the world for her to bring Maura to that point—she was absolutely radiant in her surrender—it was quite another for Jane to lay her own broken pieces out. If Maura ever saw her, vulnerable and helpless, the way she felt inside every time Maura looked at her, then she would finally know just how damaged Jane really was, and why would someone ever want to stay for that?

She let her forehead gently knock against the tile, two times, then a third. She had spent all those years conjuring up X-rated daydreams about her best friend, never once imagining she would actually get a chance to live them, and now against all odds she had Maura and…she didn't know how she was going to keep her. What was going to happen when Maura finally woke up and realized that outside of the bedroom, Jane really didn't have anything to offer? The only solution she'd come up with so far was to simply keep them in the bedroom, or some equivalent, as much as possible which was working so far, but eventually someone as smart as Maura was going to figure it out.

Think about something else, she told herself, like Tuesday night when she had come over and Maura was in the Jacuzzi already and there was a beer waiting in a bucket of ice and she had said she didn't have a swimsuit and Maura said that was fine because she didn't have one on either and they had made love twice right there in the hot tub and completely forgotten about the beer. The next day Jane had grinned every time she felt the scratches on her back twinge against her shirt because of how Maura had melted against her in the water, utterly surrendered, completely vulnerable, hers without question or hesitation, and…

"And you can't give her that." Jane whispered the words that seemed to echo against the bathroom tile as she fought back the images, not of Maura now but of somewhere else, a dark and damp basement at the bottom of a flight of stairs where all her courage, her respect and hope had bled away as she lay humiliated and exposed for what she was. "You can't give her anything—not a high end car or trips to Europe or an apartment in Central Park or…"

"Why would I want a Central Park apartment?" Maura said. "We live in Boston. The commute would be prohibitive."

Jane sighed. "It was an example—you're not supposed to..." It was at that point that she realized, even as preoccupied and exhausted as she was, that Maura, whom she had assumed was still fast asleep in the bedroom, was actually standing behind her in the shower.

* * *

**(conclusion in Chapter 2)**


	2. Chapter 2

When Maura had awoken, she stirred, searching the bed clothes with one hand and finding only the still warm imprint of Jane's body. She had no idea how much time had passed before she had finally surrendered and given Jane the confession she wanted, but she did know that she'd enjoyed every second of it more than she had thought humanly possible. She was also fairly certain her body had levitated off the bed at one point, and that she had discovered a new color when her final climax struck and Chinese fireworks went pinwheeling across her eyelids.

Jane had been utterly perfect—strong, affectionate, playful, attentive—everything Maura had given up hope of finding in a partner. All her past experiences ran to the intellectually and socially compatible, but were distinctly lacking in humor, protectiveness and basic chemistry. Just the memory of Jane's lips against her ear last night, offering to stop while at the same time her hands searched out every inch of Maura's body, firmly but tenderly laying claim, made the fine hairs on Maura's forearm stand up. She might as well have asked Niagara Falls to hold on for a moment while she went to get her camera.

The only problem was…Maura's hand slowly retracted to her side of the bed. Instead of trying to take another step forward as she'd hoped Jane would when Maura made herself utterly vulnerable, giving Jane complete physical control of the night, the detective had bolted from bed and left Maura to wake up alone. She understood the problem now thanks to Sgt. Korsak, but getting Jane to stand still long enough to address it was another problem entirely.

It was at that moment that her ears caught the sound of the shower from the bathroom suite, and if there ever were a time and a place to catch someone and make them pay attention…

* * *

Very carefully, Jane turned around to face her.

"You need to be really, really, really f'ing careful when you do that," she said, articulating each word with painful clarity. "What if I had freaked out, fallen and hit my head?"

Maura thought for a moment as she adjusted to the shower's heat, her eyes going distant. "I would assess your injuries and perform triage before determining if an ambulance was needed. Why?"

The fading look of panic in Jane's eyes told Maura that there was something she was missing, something a normal person probably would have thought about, but really how was that going to be possible when she was staring at Jane, completely naked and covered in streaming warm water? "Do you want me to come back when you're done?"

Jane grinned as she tipped her head under the shower spray, slicking back her hair, which nearly made Maura have to sit down hard on the edge of the tub. "Dr. Isles, if I told anyone that you climbed into my shower and I asked you to come back later, they'd send me straight to the psych ward." She held out one hand, pulling Maura under the water and into her arms.

She felt Jane's body fit to hers as they stood together, the water cascading over them, the way Jane's love covered her. Who would have thought Detective Rizzoli, the first to slam the door, curse at the screen, draw her gun, and yell at the brass, was such a clumsy, endearing romantic? Maura remembered Tuesday night, how Jane had waded straight into the Jacuzzi without stopping to take her clothes off, although stripping them off together had been more fun. But at the same time, there was something so dichotomous, so utterly incompatible, between the Jane she knew who would drop everything to fulfill a fantasy with grace and good humor, then kiss her senseless in the shower afterwards, and the shy, spooked Jane who had limped away before Maura could even reach for…

Limped. _Limped_.

An image came to Maura then, a face she hadn't thought of in nearly fifteen years. During her residency, at a point when she was still struggling to overcome her very real fear of live people, she'd been given the case of a young boy who had broken several bones in his foot without knowing it, ignored by an abusively neglectful family, until they had begun to knit again incorrectly.

She had explained to him, very logically, that if they didn't break the bones again and re-set them, then the injury would leave him partially crippled—not enough to keep him from walking, but he would never run as he should and there would always be pain. He had looked at her, all of 10 years old, in utter trust and told her to do what she needed to do. It had only occurred to her later, when he asked her to sign his cast, that she must be one of the first people he had known who truly cared enough for him to make the best decision, even though it had been one of the most painful. As her residency supervisor had explained, there could be times when you did in fact have to first do harm in order to bring healing.

This was one of those times.

Something deep inside Jane had been damaged all those years ago when this fierce, wild girl, already shy of others, had been caught and broken by Hoyt, and so she had settled for limping secretly, alone and unaided. It would be painful to confront and fix, but Maura loved her too much not to try.

As Jane tipped her head to let the water stream back through her hair, Maura kissed her shoulder, then at the notch of her collarbone, slowly slipping down the very center of her body as she knelt on the floor of the tub, grateful now that she had bought the sturdiest non-slip mat available.

"Um…Maur?" Jane's voice had clicked higher and her breath caught audibly. "That…what are…?"

She slipped her arms around Jane's legs, steadying them together, then kissed a slow trail down the clean flat lines of Jane's abdominals, ending far lower than she had started, which utterly destroyed Jane's sense of balance, For a moment, the only sound she could hear was Jane gasping for breath as she tipped back against the tiled wall of the shower.

"Maura, that…oh God. W-what…"

Part of Maura thought it was very illogical for Jane to ask that question when she obviously knew exactly what this was given that she'd done it several dozen times to Maura and seemed extremely confident—even gifted—at it. The other part of her winced at the questioning plea and all the past disappointment and failure it suggested. Maura deepened the kiss and felt Jane let out a low guttural sigh as her body begin to tremble and her head slowly tipped back, mouth parted, eyes half-lidded and glazed.

"Maur, God…" she managed. "Th-that feels incredible but…y'know…it doesn't work if…oh Jesus."

Then suddenly all was silent and Maura sensed something had turned, but not for the better. Jane's hands were clenched now, fists resting against the wall. "Good," she managed, "g-good enough. Gotta…hold on."

Maura let Jane pull away and then slowly eased back to her feet. "Are you all right?"

Jane nodded jerkily but with a smile that wasn't her own. "Gotta catch my breath. You're too much." She tried to grin again, but there was something so panicked in it that the whole thing fell apart even before it reached her eyes.

"If you want," Maura said, "I could…"

Jane let out a hard, sharp noise, as if she'd hit her shin. "If I want?" she parroted. The smile that wasn't really her was twisting now as pieces of some very real buried emotion began leaking through. "If I want?"

"Yes, of course." Maura softened her voice, remembering again what it had been like to tell a child that she was about to break his bones all over again, but to please, please trust that it was only for the best. If they could find the source and break through, just once…

"Oh, I want," Jane muttered. "It's all I do, but…" She broke off the words as if they were something bitter that had curdled overnight.

"Tell me." Here in the shower, nothing but water between them, it was all Maura felt she could offer—her honesty and desire. "Tell me what you want and I'll do it. I just want…"

Suddenly Jane had planted her forearm on the wall above Maura's head, looming over her and angry in a way that Maura had never seen before. It wasn't the rage that came when a child had been hurt or the cold vicious focus that filled her eyes when a second victim was killed on her watch—this was meant to frighten and chase away someone who was too close to something painful.

"There's _nothing_ here that you should want." Jane's voice had lowered but was more terrifying in its softness. "I'm good in bed because…because I'm crazy about you and you're all I think about, how to make you happy, but when that's over and the clothes are back on, I'm just a cop. I'm just a cop," she repeated, wondering over the words. "I'm stubborn, sloppy, pissed-off and…and…" She became stuck on the word, something lodged hard in her throat. "See that?" She held up one hand to Maura, flipping it over to show both palm and back. "I couldn't even save myself. Not even a very good cop. You wanna know what I want? You, you're all I want, all I can think about, and we flirt and have amazing sex and you say the right things because you're a really good person, but there's no possible way that you really, really want me. Jesus, _I_ don't even want me, so how can I let you see…"

Maura hadn't flinched in the face of the anger, calmly standing her ground which was remarkably hard to do when standing naked in a shower with an angry, confused police officer. Slowly, Maura arched one eyebrow and dared to throw all Jane's fear and shame to the floor where it belonged.

"Don't tell me that I don't know what I want," she said steadily. "And when have I _ever_ wanted something that wasn't the very best?"

Lagerfeld, Dior, Gaultier, Lacroix…Rizzoli.

The brittle anger and fear on Jane's face cracked as Maura stroked one cheek, dropping away and leaving a sick insecurity behind. "W-why?"

Maura smiled, her heart breaking all over the bathroom floor. "Let me show you." She was cupping Jane's face in both hands now, her thumbs resting gently against her cheeks. "Trust me, sweetheart, trust me," she whispered, gently pulling Jane into her arms. "I'll show you why."

In school, Maura had loved anatomy best of all the subjects, but every branch of science fascinated her and she had a better than average working knowledge of physics. While Jane had raged, she had settled her back against the wall of the shower, one foot slipping between Jane's to brace on the opposite raised lip of the tub, perfectly secure. With it she made a suspension bridge of her body, strong enough to hold them both. As Jane slowly fell into her embrace, their bodies came together, Jane's center against her leg, and Maura watched in silent wonder as Jane's face transformed at the unexpected friction. Shifting through a dozen complex emotions, Jane fought against herself: confusion, hunger, intense pleasure, raw aching need, and finally hope…

* * *

As Jane fell into Maura, letting herself be held, her eyes fluttered closed and her body took control away from her, moving against Maura, taking what she offered, and connecting in a way that both relieved and heightened the burning need. She wanted to be touched, desperately needed it in a way that she hadn't thought she could need anything except for her own breath. As she placed herself utterly in Maura's hands, a sound escaped her, one filled with such raw, feminine need that she didn't recognize it as her own. More minutes passed as the sweet frustration mounted but never reached that point of sudden tipping that would spill her mercifully back to earth once more.

"Ssshhh…sweetheart, stay with me." Maura's hand was in her hair, comforting and coaxing, as Jane buried her face against her neck, struggling not to cry in frustration and anger. "Stay, stay with me."

That was when she heard the voice—his voice.

Hoyt.

_You're mine_, it whispered, _all mine, Janie. No one else's._

Now the bathroom was dropping away, the walls, the shower itself, even the water still cascading down on her. Back in the basement it was dark, the light vanishing from her eyes. No one knew she was there, no one except Hoyt. He had found her again. After all the years and even death, he would always find her in this intimate moment which was like a little doorway to death and resurrection but he never let her cross over to the light. Her eyes were dimming even as she blinked and shook her head, until from a great distance she heard a familiar voice.

_Come back, sweetheart, you're safe, come to me…look at me, sweetheart_

Why was Maura here? They hadn't even known each other then…no, Jane struggled to fight off the memories but they had been with her for so much longer, so much a part of her.

"Jane, listen to me." Maura was touching her face again, still gentle but more commanding now. "Sweetheart, open your eyes—look at me. I'm right here, I need you to look at me."

Jane struggled to open her eyes, terrified that her mind was playing tricks on her as it did so many nights, that she would find that all her life since Hoyt had been a dream and she was still back in that basement, still helpless, broken, weak.

"M-Maur?" Her own voice sounded pathetic, confused and pleading. "Wh-where…"

"Jane, please, sweetheart," Maura was begging now, "open your eyes."

Helpless as she felt herself start to slip away again back into the shadows, Jane did as she was asked and found herself staring directly into Maura's eyes, nearly swallowed up in the warm, golden gaze that met hers: desire, encouragement, hope, faith and love—the greatest of these being love. The basement and all its terrors exploded, utterly consumed, as the sheer intensity of Maura's eyes burned into her, beating down every defense, igniting in her heart like two tiny suns and she was helpless to look away. Maura saw her—she saw everything, and she was still here.

And then, just as she had recovered her breath, Jane felt a strong, warm pressure at her center as Maura's hand found her and she whispered, nearly inaudible in the closeness: _Show me_. Jane nodded jerkily, then turned her hand so that their fingers intertwined and she brought Maura to touch her.

The sudden shock of the contact made Jane flinch involuntarily, but she held still for a moment, gathering herself again before slowly moving their hands together as she needed. The knowledge that it was Maura who touched her now, Maura who gave her this feeling, left her trembling even harder as she slowly withdrew her hand and now it was Maura alone who moved her—gently at first, but then with growing insistence as she responded helplessly. More quickly than she had thought possible, Jane felt her body begin to surrender and she clutched desperately for some kind of control but there was none to be found.

"M-Maur, I don't…what…God, no…" There was a force gathering in her greater than anything she had ever experienced before, something so terrifying and overwhelming that she could hardly breathe. Maura's lips were on her now, kissing air into her lungs, and at that touch the chain of dominos began to fall, clicking upwards through her body, slowly gathering speed.

"Jane," she whispered. "You're mine. Jane Rizzoli, listen to me. I love you, I want you, and you are _mine_."

With that, the earth opened beneath Jane and she was falling forward, caught in a safe, warm embrace as Maura's name tore through her chest and she came apart in a million tiny pieces of fire, burned, consumed and completed in those eyes, then resurrected again like a phoenix.

* * *

Jane awoke to the smell of coffee, too powerful and strong to be drifting up from downstairs. Rolling over clumsily, she found Maura Isles perched on the edge of the bed with a coffee mug in each hand—their mugs, the ones they had given each other.

"Good morning."

"Are you sure?" Jane groaned. She tried to prop herself up and wondered if this was what extreme jet lag felt like. "How can you be so happy? It's like…what time is it?"

"It's 9:30—I let you sleep."

"Really?" Jane cracked an eye lid at her. "'Cause that's not how I remember it."

Maura smiled sweetly, tilting her head in the way that made Jane want to kiss her but that would start them off down that road again and honestly she didn't think her body could take much more.

"I don't know if there's a significant amount of research devoted to the topic," Maura said, "but it would seem that now that your body is able to," her head tilted again as if to say _we both know what I mean but you get so cute and sensitive when I use the word_, "that it couldn't help continuing to want to…"

"Yeah, yeah," Jane said hastily. The first time in the shower would have been enough to make her blush for a week, but Maura had been so delighted with the new possibilities that she kept them up for several more hours which had meant the bedroom, the couch (while on the way to the kitchen), then back to the bedroom. She certainly hadn't complained at the time—she had felt absolutely amazing—but now she felt like she hadn't slept in a week.

"Please tell me this isn't decaf." She drained the first half anyway without waiting for an answer.

"I'm not that cruel." Maura smiled as she sipped hers as well and Jane bitterly suspected she was actually on her second cup but hiding the fact so she could look superior. "May I ask you a hypothetical question?"

"Only if you're good with not so hypothetically incoherent answer." Jane smiled though and scooted even further upright, making room for Maura on the bed beside her. God, it felt so good and right to be here with her. Her head felt like an Etch-a-Sketch that had been shaken too hard, but it felt new, clean, and good inside. The old pictures, the desperate scrawlings of a hurt, scared, wounded past, were gone and all she could see was Maura now, looking at her and smiling.

"If, hypothetically, you were going to propose to me, would you give me just a little warning? I want to be wearing something nice when you do and I haven't had time to go by the dry cleaners." Jane felt her face freeze, her grip tightening on the coffee mug. "Oh, and my answer's yes, in case that helps."

Jane nodded, eyes still wide and undecided between surprise and embarrassment at having been caught. "Yeah, kinda," she croaked. "How did, uh, yes, OK. I promise. Like everything you already own isn't amazing."

"Jane." Maura looked at her fondly, tucking strands of dark hair behind her ear. "You can't leave laundry lying around and expect me not to check your pockets for non-colorfast items. I found the appointment card from the jeweler's with the notes on the back. I…I don't usually wear rings because of work, but it sounds beautiful," she added shyly.

"I wasn't sure," Jane confessed. "I mean, part of me was thinking that it was too good to be true, you wanting to be with me, and the other part said ask her now you idiot before she comes to her senses and the other part of me…well, you saw that last night."

"I did." Maura said it matter-of-factly, without condemnation or surprise. "We all have demons, Jane. Some of them are just a little more active than most."

"I'm sorry that you got hit with that. Y'know, sometimes it's not always over just because we talked and…it could come back." She looked up at the admission and found herself caught again in Maura's eyes and felt the slow heat begin to build in her chest as she fell into them.

"Then I'll be here waiting."

Jane swallowed and nodded. "I was thinking y'know that if things hadn't happened so fast for us the beginning, I might've screwed everything up and pulled away, but thank God for that murder."

From the way Maura was curled against her now, there would be no pulling away for at least a decade. "The mur…? Oh…me?" she laughed, the one that ran high, nearly like a girl's. "Did you feel a compulsion to protect the victim?"

"Hell yeah, you never know when another one could be committed." Jane was grinning, the caffeine kicking in with force. "I'm surprised we haven't gotten a call yet today."

Maura slapped her arm lightly and Jane wondered, not for the first time, if it would be possible for an already perfect hand to look any more beautiful with a ring on it. "Well, even if there was, it wouldn't come to you. I called in and got you the day off."

Jane quickly reviewed the never ending list of cases which she had…well, no, actually, she hadn't been ignoring them. She'd been working to an unprecedented closure rate actually and even Cavanaugh had said something about it the other day. A day off, if the guys were OK with it, wouldn't kill her. "Did you tell Korsak?"

"Yes, he was very helpful in a hypothetical sort of way."

Something told Jane that she didn't want to know the story behind that and for once she turned off the detective side of her brain. "I'd ask what you wanted to do then, but I'm afraid the answer is going to involve one of us getting naked."

"I'm not certain how that could be a bad thing, but I did actually wonder if you would like to go out to lunch and then…" Maura paused to take another sip, which Jane thought was a very, very strategic sip of coffee, giving her just long enough to wonder what Maura was going to suggest, and if Jane were very smart then she would suggest it first.

"Would you like to go by the jeweler's and look at your ring?"

Maura's face lit up and before Jane could blink she had slid off the bed and gone to the closet in search of something to wear. Jane didn't understand the point of getting dressed in the morning and then changing again to go out, but as long as she got to watch she really wasn't going to complain.

"Oh, I have something for you," Maura called from the inner depths of the closet.

Suddenly Jane was more awake than if the coffee had been injected directly into her arteries. "Maura…"

"No, not clothes—although…" She popped her head around the closet door. "Do you have anything clean here you can wear or do we need to go to your apartment? As much as I love your uniform, it might make people a little nervous."

Jane was actually more concerned about the effect it would have on Maura if they went out together like that for an entire day. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I'm fine—I have some things…somewhere I guess." From Maura's silence she realized this might be another one of those pauses where she should make another suggestion. "We could talk about that too if you want—I mean, it's obviously not safe for you to move into my place, but if you want me to maybe move in here or…"

Jane found herself enveloped in a fierce hug, the breath knocked out of her. "OK, I'll take that for a yes," she chuckled, kissing Maura. Just as suddenly though, Maura had pulled away to search quickly through the top drawer of her dresser, emerging with a set of car keys. "You wanna drive?" Jane joked. Jesus, it would be tomorrow before they got to the store the way Maura drove.

"No, I want you to." Maura presented her with the keys which hung from a Boston Red Sox keychain. In addition to the ignition and trunk key, there was a St. Michael's medallion, the patron saint of police officers.

"Awww, you made me a backup…" Jane's voice trailed off as she looked more closely at the keys and saw that they weren't to a Prius or a Lexus or anything else Maura liked.

"They're for you," Maura said simply. She took Jane's hand and led her to one of the windows that looked out onto the back courtyard and pulled back the gauzy curtain. "I gave your mother a very vague story about why it was parked there, so we may need to tell her something soon."

Along the side of Maura's house, in a space Jane had always hazily assumed belonged to a neighbor, was a brand new Ford Mustang GT, black on black, with…she squinted…manual transmission, so that was…

"Maura, that was silly. Your car is in great shape and you don't even drive stick. That's what you want to do this afternoon, go ring shopping and learn to drive stick?" Jane was laughing when she turned back to look at Maura and stopped suddenly at the sight of the tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh crap…oh crap, don't cry. What'd I do?"

"You don't like it? You can take it back—I just thought you would like it better than a ring because you told me how they can get caught on things and then I looked it up and you wouldn't believe some of the industrial accidents caused by rings getting caught in equipment so when I thought about what would happen if you lost a finger because of me and…"

Gently, Jane kissed her to stop the rambling, and also because she could. "You bought that for me?" Maura gave a tiny nod, trying to hide a sniffle. "I heard you talking to Frankie and…and so I asked him what you said your dream car was and then I looked that up and I'm sorry, but I can't afford a Murcielago this year, but I have an investment coming due in the first quarter of…"

"Maura Isles, are you asking me to marry you?"

Those eyes, those beautiful golden eyes that had found her, fought for her, and carried her up out of the basement blinked at her, then widened. "Yes." Her hand which had been resting on Jane's chest had twined itself into her shirt. "Yes, Jane Rizzoli, I am, and don't tell me I don't know what I'm doing. For better or worse, I want you to be my wife. And this doesn't mean that you still don't need to ask me too when you're ready."

"I'm afraid you're getting the worse half and I'm getting the better," Jane joked unsteadily. "But the answer's always been yes, so kiss me before you change your mind."

And while they nearly missed the jeweler's appointment due to some extensive exploration in the Mustang (or at least the back seat), Maura declared the ring to be perfect and insisted on taking it immediately. Jane spent the afternoon teaching her to drive stick and Maura nearly stripped second gear off completely before the Mustang had a hundred miles on it, but Jane couldn't remember ever being happier in her life. She didn't even think about work once until nearly supper time when Maura received a text from Sgt. Korsak saying that all was well, but to be aware that a team might be coming around later that night, canvassing the neighborhood. Apparently, someone had overheard a woman being murdered that morning out back of Maura's house and to be aware that a Mustang GT had been seen fleeing the scene.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you though to everyone who followed and reviewed and send supportive messages. You have been greatly, greatly appreciated. It's been a lot of fun to meet you all.**

**And since no one is ever likely to make a Public Service Announcement for this, I will: If you're in a relationship with someone who has a few demons and doubts that plague them, hold on. Find a way to get through the defenses, even if it's just a toe hold, and hold on tight. It may take a week or a month or years, but it's worth it.**


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